


Parlor Tricks Courtesy of a Few Corpses

by trashazaki



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, I know that's not a tag but I want it to be, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Murder, Panic Attacks, Pre-Canon, Pre-Demens Higgs, or panic attacks culminating in murder to be more concise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21803908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashazaki/pseuds/trashazaki
Summary: A sixth sense—Daddy's parting gift to me. Over time, it'd fade. But I knew how I got it, and I knew how to get it back. All I needed was another body—and I got real good at making them. Death for life. Theirs for mine. A fair exchange.Higgs was intimately familiar with death and taking lives before he joined the Demens, though it was more out of necessity than a sense of extinction-driven fatalism.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Parlor Tricks Courtesy of a Few Corpses

Higgs Monaghan had become quite the name among the citizens in the Central Region of the broken America. People had heard tell of his reliable nature, but more importantly, his abilities. But the preppers knew what that had meant: DOOMS. While they were thankful for the masked man's proclivity in taking on arduous orders that called for him to trek through the more dangerous areas most porters wouldn't dare approach, they knew that the poor bastard must've been touched in the head. At least, that's what Higgs would overhear from time to time, but it never got to him. If anything, it wasn't the DOOMS that fractured his mind to begin with.

Recollections of his uncle's harsh fists, the bruises Higgs found himself covered with when he looked in the mirror, and scars that, even as an adult, Higgs could trace along his arms and back. Sometimes, he would sooner deal with the apocalyptic nightmares that caused him to wake himself up screaming than have to deal with his uncle's frantic rambling and _physical_ reinforcement to _stay the hell inside, Higgs, you can never leave this shelter, there's nothing out there for us, not anymore, do you fucking understand me?_

The death of his "father" didn't shake him nearly as much as it probably should've, he acknowledged that. But it gave him such an invaluable treasure. Higgs never felt a modicum of regret for what he did, even if the memories of the knife sinking into flesh, the warm blood dripping onto his face, and the crimson pooling on the floor and reflecting that steel sky would spring up from time to time in his dreams when they weren't occupied by visions of the end of all things.

He didn't hate his uncle. How could he, when he bestowed such a vital gift unto Higgs at such a young age?

Now, this gift helped Higgs find work and plenty of it. He eked out a living for himself, even made his own shelter to call home just outside of Lake Knot and got brought onto an independent porter service. Joining this service was one of the better decisions Higgs had made as it allowed him more resources, but being one of the only ones with DOOMS, he was often partnered up with porters unable to perceive the other side and, by extension, BTs. Those sorts of two-man jobs began to trickle in with more frequency as the chiral clouds and timefall rolled in with increasing prevalence. The cargo could be carried by one porter, easily, but Higgs got to play supernatural detector. It was a fool's errand or a suicide mission to go through an area with timefall, depending on your luck or lack thereof, and everyone would rather be safe than sorry.

Until Higgs began to lose his grip on his sixth sense.

He first noticed it whenever he was trudging through the wetlands on a solo job. The timefall was never forgiving, but it seemed to be heavier than usual. At first, Higgs chalked it up to the heavy sheet of rain lowering his visibility. A chill ran through his body, and he began to search for the shimmering of chiralium floating about in the air, but rather than being met with the clear silhouettes of distended bodies and umbilical cords dripping inky darkness onto the ground, he found... fragments. Bits and pieces struggling to hold themselves together, and it felt like if Higgs breathed too hard in their direction, they'd disperse and float away into the ether. It was his eyes playing tricks on him. It had to be. The downpour was torrential, and his breath was fogging up his mask. That was it. He could still see them enough to avoid them, and that's all that mattered. No one needed to know. He was just fine.

The next time he came to an area with BTs, it was with a fellow porter. Higgs had never met the man before, and from the looks of him, he seemed very new to being a porter. Before they left the distribution center for their outfit, the newbie's eyes were damn near sparkling. Higgs, having checked the map and noticing the mountain pass they would need to go through, didn't hold the same enthusiasm, but far be it from him to ruin the poor guy's hopes. As they slogged through the snow, the falling flakes threatening to chill right through their suits and age them, Higgs paid very close attention to anything that could herald a BT's presence. He furrowed his brow and stopped walking, giving his companion pause.

"Everything okay, sir?" the porter asked, genuine concern in his voice. He sounded so young.

Higgs held a finger up to his mouth to shush the porter. "Not so loud. There're always BTs here... but I can't see anything," he responded in a hushed tone.

"So that's a good thing, right?"

_No._

_Something's wrong._

_It's not right._

_Where are they?_

_They're always here._

**_Where are they?_ **

**_It's all wrong._ **

Higgs walked ahead of the porter, putting his hand out to gesture for the less experienced man to wait. A sudden, viscerally chilling feeling shook Higgs' body and he froze, holding his breath as his eyes scanned the sky around them.

But the most he could see was a few swirls of black in the air, brief and fleeting.

And entirely too close for comfort.

_No. No no no nonononono._

_Something's wrong._

_Where?_

**_It's not RIGHT._ **

Higgs backed away, legs shaking, but he couldn't determine if it was from the panic running through his mind like electricity or the brutal cold of the mountains. If he hadn't been holding his breath, he would've no doubt been taken by the BTs to the other side.

_Goddammit, not now!_

He felt as though his knees were about to buckle as he nearly backed into the porter he was accompanying.

The porter.

The new, naive, inexperienced porter, previously unexposed to the BTs.

It wouldn't be hard to do at all. Higgs had built something of a good reputation for himself through his commendable work ethic. There would be no reason for this guy to question his intent, nor would it be a stretch of the imagination for a new porter to wander into BT terrority after he and Higgs got separated in an unforeseen blizzard. It was common knowledge that it was better to die by your own hand than be killed by a BT. Lowered the risk of a voidout.

The voice of the porter was faint through a combination of Higgs' blood rushing through his ears and the lowered voice the man was using. It took a few tries before Higgs processed the question being asked of him.

"I'm fine. Lightheaded from the altitude. There're BTs ahead, but not directly in front. I'll let ya know if you're cuttin' it close."

The porter nodded and began to walk forward slowly, cautiously. The sound of snow shuffling covered the sound of Higgs' blade flicking out of its handle. In one swift motion, Higgs clasped a hand over the porter's mouth and sank his knife into the side of his neck, the blade slicing through the fabric of the hood and finding its mark in the carotid artery. The porter tried in vain to gasp for air and Higgs tightened his grip, trying to stop the man from struggling so much and causing more noise than before.

"I need my power. I need to see again. I can't die like this. You understand, right?" Higgs said softly, digging the knife in just a bit more to ensure the fatality of the wound before yanking the blade out, blood spurting from the stab with each pulse of the dying man's heart, splattering against the snow in streaks of scarlet. Higgs let the man go and simply watched, a detached look lingering in his eyes beneath his masks as the porter's body hit the ground, cushioned by the reddening snow, the flow of blood slowing with the weakening of the porter's heart. Finally, after what seemed like hours, everything stopped.

But that wasn't enough.

Higgs' mind was on fire with the gravity of the situation. Not for the fact that he had taken a life, the second one he ever had, and this time not even in self-defense, but for the fact that what if he was found out? The cover story he'd devised before killing the man would most likely suffice, but what if it didn't? What if this didn't work this time and the other two times he was near a corpse were flukes and there was nothing special about him at all? What if even with his power restored, he was grabbed by BTs? What if, what if, what if.

What if you died here?

A fresh corpse wasn't enough, no. It had to necrotize. Without thinking much about it, he knelt down beside the body and wiped the blood from his knife onto the porter's coat before cutting the coat away altogether, going even further to cut away the man's undershirt. The snow worked the same as the rain, right? So surely it would accelerate the necrotizing process. That made sense to Higgs.

Higgs dragged the body and the cargo away from the BT area, near the lip of the mountain pass, and sat near it for hours, watching and waiting. Waiting and watching. A glimmering particle floated up from the corpse, followed by another, and another. Higgs felt the body begin to twitch in his hands. _His hands._ He looked at them and found them beginning to vaporize, his fingertips disappearing before the mist engulfed him down to his wrists. He dared a scant look up, and as expected, he saw a black cord beginning to form from the corpse to... he followed it with his eyes and found a black figure shambling closer, the silhouette a stark contrast against the near blinding snow. The snow faded to grey sands for a brief moment, and he could hear waves crashing against a shore echoing in his mind. The Beach. His powers were back. But he had no time to spare.

He grabbed the cargo the porter had been carrying and attached it to his suit. Blood stained the corners of one of the containers, something Higgs hadn't noticed nor bothered thinking about at the time it had gotten there. He had plenty of time to conjure up a tale to spin before he got to the client's shelter. He had a long way to go, but he felt the nervous energy leave his body with each step away from the mountain pass, knowing that his abilities were still with him. They simply needed a refresher.

A sacrifice in exchange for his gift.


End file.
